


Looks Like You Finally Got Your Answer

by messedupstargazer



Series: Saints and Sinners [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bigotry & Prejudice, Biphobia, Bisexual Barry Allen, Don't copy to another site, Gay Leonard Snart, Hurt Barry Allen, Internalized Homophobia, Kind of a Happy Ending, Leonard Snart Owns Saints and Sinners, Leonard Snart Takes Care of Barry Allen, Leonard Snart is Bad at Feelings, Leonard Snart to the Rescue, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, Offscreen Beating, Offscreen Whump, Protective Leonard Snart, mostly angst, so many tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21569725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messedupstargazer/pseuds/messedupstargazer
Summary: (Please read the first two to understand this one.)It still surprised him when his personal cell rang at three thirty in the morning, waking him up.  He groaned, tonight had been his night off and he had been hoping to catch up on some lost sleep, but when his sleep-addled mind finally processed Barry’s ringtone, he answered.  Barry had probably just forgot Len wasn’t working that night, along with whatever it was he was calling to remind himself of.  Funny though, Len thought this was Barry’s night off as well.“Hey, kid.”Tears were his only response.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, preslash - Relationship
Series: Saints and Sinners [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548526
Comments: 17
Kudos: 395





	Looks Like You Finally Got Your Answer

**Author's Note:**

> So, the story I thought I was writing didn't end up on the page. This story has taken on a life of it's own. I didn't start this thinking I was gonna do half the things I ended up doing, and this is the final result. I think I've got one more story of these idiots before this story tells me it's finished. I'll keep you all updated.
> 
> Psst- the villain of the story ended up being Joe West. If that's not what you want, this isn't the story for you.

Hiring Barry had been one of the best decisions of Len’s life. At first, he’d been a little anxious that Barry wouldn’t fit in with his ragtag group of ex-cons, but they’d taken to Barry like a duck to water and Barry seemed just as at home with them as they were with him. He’d even given them a name, the “Rogues”. Within days, all the group chats, bulletin boards, and even the computer passwords had been changed accordingly. Barry was a ray of undimming sunshine, and Len becoming more and more reliant on the kid as the months went by. Even the other Rogues had noticed. He knew there had been something from their first encounter, Len had never been the picture of generosity, but he hadn’t been expecting how easily Barry fit into their lives.

But it still surprised him when his personal cell rang at three thirty in the morning, waking him up. He groaned, tonight had been his night off and he had been hoping to catch up on some lost sleep, but when his sleep-addled mind finally processed Barry’s ringtone, he answered. Barry had probably just forgot Len wasn’t working that night, along with whatever it was he was calling to remind himself of. Funny though, Len thought this was Barry’s night off as well.

“Hey, kid.”

Tears were his only response. Suddenly, Len was very awake.

“Kid? You there?”

“I’m sorry.” Barry choked out. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Where are you?” Len demanded.

“Corner of Fifth and Fourteenth, I think.” Barry gasped, as Len ran down the stairs, past Axel and Mick who were closing up for the night.

“Boss?” Mick called after him but he didn’t acknowledge him.

“You think?” Len said, starting his motorcycle, securing the other helmet. “What can you see?”

“The corner diner Sam complains so much about.” Barry cried, his voice becoming less frantic. “I know that’s on Fifth.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Len revved up his bike and sped off. He knew the diner Sam always complained about but never actually stopped going to. “What else?”

“I see a stop sign.” Barry said. “I see a bus stop. I see… I see the dollar store, the weird one that never has the lights on right. That’s… that’s one seventh. Wait, no, I… I’m not sure.”

“I can find you, kid.” Len said. “Just don’t move and don’t hang up.”

He could hear the kid trying to contain fully-fledged sobs. Len wasn’t sure what had happened, but he was sure he wanted to put a bullet into whoever had made Barry cry like that.

“Don’t leave me.” Barry pleaded. “I’m scared.”

“I’m on my way, Barry, remember?” Len pulled on the acceleration, urging his bike to go faster, uncaring of whatever speeding laws he was breaking. “You’re telling me what you see. How about what you can hear? Anything useful?”

“Um, I hear a dog barking.” Barry said, his earlier fear still present but distracted enough. “I hear a couple arguing but it’s far away. I hear… I hear you.”

“Barry, can you tell me what happened?” Len asked. “Why are you outside so late? It’s your weekend.”

Choked gasps that precluded sobs were his answer.

“It’s okay!” Len nigh shouted. “We don’t have to talk about that. If you don’t want to. Jeez, I’m bad at this. I’m almost at the diner, can you stand in front of it?”

“Yeah. Don’t think they have a guard dog or anything.”

Len wanted to curse but knew he couldn’t. He knew just how serious Barry was being right now, as if a random diner would need a guard dog that would attack a small, scrawny, too-good-for-the-world kid.

Thankfully, Barry was where he said he was, and he saw Barry’s silhouette as he sped towards the diner. He got as close as his bike would allow, and all but jumped off the bike. Barry was hunched over, cradling his right arm, ducking his head to where Len couldn’t see it.

“I’m right here, Scarlet.” Len said. The nickname he’d earned had been one of the few things that truly stuck with Barry throughout his stay with the Rogues. Len prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that it would help.

Barry looked up, and Len’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces. A black eye, split lip, bruises all across Barry’s neck, and that was just what Len could see in this dim light. Someone had taken his ray of sunshine and tried to crush it. Someone was definitely getting a bullet for this.

“Come on.” Len said, as gently as he could. “Time to go home.”

“I can’t.” Barry muttered. “I can’t go back there.”

“I meant to my apartment.” Len said softly. “Mick and Axel can handle closing tonight, let’s just go to Saints and Sinners and you can stay in my sister’s room.”

It scared him when Barry nodded, giving no protest to Len’s offered guest room. With a sickening feeling, he was pretty sure he knew exactly what had caused Barry to get this beaten up.

He got Barry secured in the second helmet, and Barry’s one good arm was tight around Len’s waist. He turned on his bike, and hated how Barry flinched at the loud noise. So Len drove as cautiously as he could while still trying to get home quickly.

Once they arrived, Len threw Barry’s arm around his shoulder, keeping this kid’s helmet on, unsure if Barry wanted attention or not. Barry didn’t say anything so he was pretty sure it was the right move. So Len led Barry inside.

“What the hell, Boss?” Mick shouted, causing Barry to flinch in to Len. “What’s going on?”

“Shut it.” Len hissed. “I gotta deal with this, you just close up like normal.”

Mick stared at him but didn’t say anything else. He knew Mick wasn’t as stupid as he portrayed himself as, and he was pretty sure that Mick knew exactly what was going on. He just hoped he didn’t tell Axel, who had the loosest lips on the entire staff. He didn’t want to tell the rest of the Rogues until he had to.

Leading Barry up the stairs was slow going, Barry’s injuries becoming more extensive the more he tried to step up the small staircase. With Barry’s labored breathing and near constant whimpers, he’d definitely bruised his ribs. Len hoped he hadn’t cracked anything, as that would require a trip to the hospital, and after the lightning strike, Barry avoided the hospital like the plague. Len understood.

Once he set Barry down on Lisa’s old bed, and locked the door behind him, he helped Barry pull the helmet off, and Len couldn’t contain the gasp.

Barry’s face was bloody, with cuts across his cheeks, some still bleeding slowly, his black eye swollen almost shut, bruises all along his jaw and neck, lip split wide open, and his nose was still bleeding. He looked like he’d lost a fight, or five.

“Oh, Barry. I’m so sorry.”

That broke the dam, and the tears finally spilled over. Len gently got behind the kid, to not put undue strain on his ribs, and pulled him into his embrace. Barry carefully leaned his head into the crook of Len’s neck, and sobbed. Len gently ran his hand up and down Barry’s left arm.

The lock clicked open and Barry gasped. Two knocks. Pause. Two knocks.

“It’s okay.” Len whispered. “It’s just Mick.”

Barry’s lips moved but no sound followed.

“No, no, he’s not coming in.” Len reassured. “He’s just letting me know that he’s got stuff for us outside.”

Barry slumped back into Len’s arms.

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m just gonna grab what Mick set out for us, okay?” Len whispered.

Barry nodded, tears still streaming down his face. Len slowly extricated himself, doing his utmost to not hurt Barry further. He opened the door to find gauze, a right hand ace bandage, ice packs, witch hazel, Neosporin, bandaids, small rags, and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Len allowed himself a small smile, due to Mick’s pyromania he had gotten very good at first aid, and Len hadn’t thought of getting the necessary supplies, only of getting Barry somewhere safe. He brought the tray inside, returned Mick’s knock to let him know he got everything and was grateful.

“Barry, can I go ahead and look at your injuries?” Len asked, as gently as he was capable of. “I don’t want to take you to a hospital, but I need to get a good look first to make sure you don’t need one.”

Barry still sobbed, but nodded.

“Hurts.”

Len’s heart broke all over again.

“I know, but hopefully, this will help.” Len said, trying to remain as business as possible. “I need you to take off your shirt.”

Barry shook his head. “Don’t wanna.”

“All I’m checking is if you’ve cracked or bruised your ribs.” Len says, trying to be soothing. “If you cracked them, I can’t help you. If you haven’t, you can stay right here and not move for a week.”

Barry looked at him, eyes bloody and tinged with fear. Then he decided to nod.

Together, very slowly, they were able to get Barry’s shirt off. If he hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve taken a much better glance at Barry’s lean chest. The runner’s physique had always been a pleasure to view.

Len’s association with the law, and his own childhood abuse, he knew how to check for cracked ribs. He pressed down gently across Barry’s skin, and even though the kid winced, he didn’t scream.

“Good news is your ribs aren’t broken, and I don’t think you’ll need stitches. Bad news is, I think I want to take you to the hospital anyway.”

Barry stared at him in horror, betrayal in his teary eyes.

“Barry, I think you need to press charges against whoever did this to you.” Len said. “No matter how much you think you love them.”

Barry laughed mirthlessly. “It won’t do any good. They’d never get arrested for it.”

“I hate to ask, because I think I already know, but what about Joe?” Len said, a growing pit of dread in his stomach. Barry had said “they” not “he”. “Didn’t you say he was a detective? Couldn’t he pull some strings?”

“He let them do it.” Barry’s voice was so quiet, he almost missed it.

Len forced the disgust, the guilt, the blinding rage down, no matter how much he wanted to hurt Joe for hurting Barry.

“Looks like I got my answer, huh?” Barry continued, unaware of the flood of emotions roaring through Len. “It was supposed to be a good night. It was Joe’s partners retirement, Detective Chyre, he’d taught Joe everything about being a cop. He’d been a detective for years, had the whole precinct over to Seagrass. Everyone was so excited, family and friends were encouraged, we’d rented out the whole bar. He seemed like a good man, had kids a little older than me. When Joe adopted me, I was raised alongside them, they used to call me cousin. But tonight… it seems I’ve lost that title.

“Eddie, Iris’s boyfriend, have I told you about him?” At Len’s nod, he went on. “Yeah, he was talking to me outside, saying he had a friend he wanted to set me up with. Said he knew him from college, they had several classes together, and he liked science and the supernatural too. He had reached out, to give ask for his number to give to me. One of Fred's kids overheard him, I’m not sure which. The only thing I do know was after I saw Joe talking to Lyle, giving approval for something, I was suddenly getting pulled outside and just like high school, I was the punching bag. Except this time, I kept panicking so my stupid feet wouldn’t run and I couldn’t escape. They kept laughing, shoving me around, punching me, calling me… horrible names, I couldn’t… I couldn’t fight back. I just took it. I kept yelling, hoping for someone to notice, but no one came out. I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t louder than the music or if they were ignoring me. I’m still not sure.”

“So how did you get away?”

“I didn’t really.” Barry said, an agonizing desolation in his voice. “The door to the back opened, and Joe came out. He saw me, he saw me all in between them, and he looked at me and he was so… disappointed. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t leap in to defend me… he just stared. They just… stopped. After that, I could finally run so I took off and called you.”

Barry’s tears had run out. Len’s tears had begun.

“Barry, I-” Len started, but his mind whirled ceaselessly, each angle he tried to approach it from failed to give any sort of satisfactory answer. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Barry shrugged, winced, and they lapsed into silence.

Len’s tears flooded his face, though he felt a strange detachment to them. He knew his grief could not eclipse Barry’s but he couldn’t help but grieve with this young man for whom the world had just ended.

Barry’s grief, it seemed, had gone past tears. He didn’t meet Len’s eyes and simply stared at the bedspread. Len took in Barry’s still form, the sagged shoulders, the red and puffy eyes underneath the bruise, the drying tear tracks down his face, blood splattered across his face.

“I may not know what to say, but I know what we need to do.”

Barry looked up in surprise.

“I need to patch you up kid, you’re still bleeding.” Len said, gesturing for Barry’s right wrist. Barry hesitantly held it out.

Len grabbed the ace bandage, and wrapped Barry’s arm up in it. Then he grabbed a rag and the witch hazel, covering the now open bottle and tipping the bottle to soak the rag. Then he scrunched up the wet rag and gently dabbed at Barry’s lip, letting the witch hazel work it’s magic. Barry’s left hand instinctively came up to meet Len’s and their fingers brushed together.

The tension in the air had suddenly become very thick.

Barry’s eyelids fluttered, and Len found himself short of breath. Something was squeezing his chest in anticipation, and his stomach decided to become a professional gymnast. But no matter how much he never wanted this moment to end, he knew he couldn’t give in tonight. Not when Barry had lost so much, not when a simple kiss could devolve into too much more.

“Here.” Len said, his voice breaking the tension. “I’m gonna start on those cuts. You want your hot chocolate?”

Barry’s body relaxed, as if his strings had been cut, but he nodded.

Len handed him the mostly warm chocolate, glad that Mick always liked his hot chocolate damn near burnt. Always kept his hot chocolate hotter than hell.

For a while, Len worked in silence, rubbing the Neosporin into the cuts, then covering them with gauze or a bandaid, or both depending on the depth, with Barry only lifting the mug to his lips, alternating the drink and the witch hazel.

“There.” Len said, his voice low. “Now everyone will think you’re the Mummy but you should heal from that pretty quickly.”

Barry tried for a smile but couldn’t manage it.

“It’s okay.” Len whispered, his hand cupping Barry’s face, minding his injuries. “You don’t have to smile if you don’t want to. You don’t have to pretend you’re okay. It’s just you and me here, Scarlet. You can let yourself feel.”

Silent tears started running down Barry’s face once more. Len shifted, setting the medical supplies on the floor and pulling the kid into his arms. Once more, Barry was crying in his arms, and he hated how he knew how to talk the kid down from a panic attack but had no idea whether Barry really even liked hot chocolate or if he was drinking it to be polite.

“I think… deep down, I knew.” Barry mumbled into Len’s neck. “I knew he wouldn’t accept me. I’m not his, not really. He’s not my dad, he’s Joe. He’s the father of the best friend who I crash with.”

Len started to run his hand through Barry’s hair, smirking to himself a bit. Barry’s undercut had grown out, and now Len’s fingers threaded easily.

“Why?” Barry’s voice shifted, an anger Len recognized. “Why bother taking me in if he wasn’t going to accept every part of me. That’s what he signed up for! When he adopted me, he promised to love me forever! Not stopping when I turned eighteen, not conditional to what I tell him, _forever_! Why… why wasn’t I good enough for forever? Why wasn’t I good enough for unconditional?”

“Shh, it’s not you.” Len hushed. “It’s all him. He made a choice, he chose to go down this road. You did nothing wrong.”

“I know that… rationally.” Barry admitted. “But it hurts so much! I really wanted him to accept me. I really wanted unconditional.”

“He doesn’t deserve your unconditional.” Len said. “It hurts, and I can’t guarantee it’ll ever stop hurting, but you deserve unconditional. You deserve someone who wants to give you forever, who can give you unconditional without hesitating.”

Barry looked up at Len, and Len’s breath caught in his throat. Len saw past the bruises, past the blood to see an infectious laugh behind startling green eyes, a blinding smile hidden in heavenly lips, a brilliant young man nestled deep in a kind soul.

By some unknown magnetic force, they each drew closer to each other.

Barry’s good hand reached out to Len’s intertwining their fingers. Len’s free hand came up to cup Barry’s tilting jaw. Barry hissed as Len hit a tender bruise.

That broke whatever spell Len had been under. Cursing himself, he pulled back. Barry didn’t need this right now. He needed support, not more drama, not anything that could further exacerbate his injuries. He didn’t need a man nearly twice his age who would only hold him back from living his best life. Barry would eventually have to move on from the Rogues, from Len. He had to accept that, no matter how much a small voice in his head protested.

“I’m sorry. You should get some rest.” Len said, gathering up the errant medical supplies. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Barry lied, trying to reach out with his dominant hand. Len cocked an eyebrow at the bandage securely fastened around his wrist. Bary winced, caught in the lie.

“I told you once that this room was always open to you.” Len said, standing up. “It’s yours, however long you need it. And if you want, I have no doubt Mick, the Rogues and I will be down to break into Joe’s house and steal your shit from him. You shouldn’t have to start over because this asshole decided his bigotry was worth more than your existence.”

Barry tried for a smile, and managed a small one. “Thank you. I… I don’t know what I would’ve done without you to come home to.”

Len could not overreact to that statement. Len could _not_ read too much to Barry saying that his apartment was “home”. He wouldn’t let himself.

Len smiled, as if his mind and heart weren’t battling each other for control. “You give me too much credit, Scarlet. You always have.”

Barry laughed quietly, almost listlessly but it still shook Len to his core.

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.” Barry said, meeting Len’s eyes, cutting him to the core. “You’ve done so much for someone who was a complete stranger only a few months ago.”

“Go to sleep, Barry.” Len finally said, getting a hold of his mouth. “Hopefully, everything will be better in the morning.”

Len headed out, disposing of the trash and putting away the unused first aid supplies. He dumped the no longer hot chocolate in the sink, not wanting to put in the effort of reheating it. He hated to waste good hot chocolate, but he knew he wouldn’t find any happiness in the drink tonight.

“Come on, snap out of it.” He chastised himself. “He can’t feel the same for you, he’s a scared kid who’s latching onto the first person who’s accepted him. Nothing more. He won’t love you after a few months. He won’t stay just for you.”

He just wished his heart would stop imagining otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> To every single person who commented on Waking Up in Unfamiliar Sheets, I want to personally thank you with all of my heart. I was going through a bit of a rough patch when I posted it, and honestly I get very scared that I'm not good enough for you all and I don't want to disappoint you with work y'all don't like. I have your comments saved on my phone so I can always find them and remind myself of that I was capable of succeeding, even when my brain tells me I failed. Please don't feel bad if you didn't comment on the first one, not everyone has the strength or eloquence to comment, and I don't want to put undue strain onto anyone. All I want to do here is just say thank you, everyone. I cannot tell you how much I adore you all.


End file.
